The moment Katie Bingham opened her purse to pay for lunch,
she knew she was in big trouble. The problem stemmed from the
fact that this was not the purse she normally used, it was
sort of a spare. Unfortunately, the last time she’d worn it,
she put some important papers inside and then forgot all
about them.

“What?! It's that little dance you do while you're bawling your
eyes out after a butt whippin'."

Rachel then demonstrated by hopping from foot to foot and
rubbing her rear end as she pretended to cry.

"You are so ridiculous!" Liz giggled as she looked around to see
if anyone was watching.

The next few hours found Katie at her desk trying to concentrate
on her work. But Bill and Rachel’s words kept echoing in her
head and now she was starting to remember her husband referring
to her bottom as a “little wagon” on several occasions.

“Get your little wagon in here!” he’d said, folding back the
sheets and covers at bedtime. Quite often, Bill had stood behind
her in the kitchen, admiring her fanny. “You have the cutest
little wagon.” he’d say.

It wasn’t little, actually. By magazine standards, Katie’s rump
was oversized. In reality, however, it was simply full, round
and womanly.

And now her husband was going to paint it bright red.

Recollections of spankings she’d received while growing up
played like old movies in her mind and though she never felt
permanently scarred by these experiences, they were not
fond memories. Katie shifted around in her chair as if
the seat was growing hotter with every thought of a hand
or hairbrush smacking her tender bare bottom.

At five o’clock, Katie attempted to make a quick exit from
the office in the hope of avoiding Rachel.

“Off to the woodshed, huh?” Her friend called out from the
copying machine.

Katie displayed her best fake smile and gave Rachel a
dismissive wave as she headed out the door.

The traffic she encountered on her drive home may have been
slow, but Katie’s mind was racing.

She stared at the rear end of the station wagon directly in
front of her and couldn’t help but notice the color.

“Bright red.” she whispered.

The fact that Bill had used these words worried her, because
he wasn’t a half-way kind of guy. If he started in on a project,
he kept at it until it was finished. When they played cards
or a board game, he played to win. So it naturally followed
that, if the man she loved was going to spank her, it was
bound to be a bona fide bottom-scorcher. It wouldn’t be just
some playful display of ass smacking, but a full-fledged
over-the-knee extravaganza with real swats, authentic tears,
and no small amount of true humiliation.

Katie’s buttocks clenched as she imagined her husband standing
in the doorway of a woodshed, paddle in hand, motioning for her
to enter.

Katie was finally resigned to the fact that she was in for the
spanking of a lifetime, because nothing Bill said meant “yes”
more than the words: “What do you think?”. From the first time
she’d asked if he wanted to fool around to that morning when she
saw his sleepy face at the breakfast table and asked if he
wanted coffee, “What do you think?” always translated into:
“Do you even have to ask?”

By the time she pulled into the driveway, Katie’s mind was
swirling around like an ice cube in a delicious cocktail
made from equal parts of raw anxiety and animal lust with just
a drop of dread.

She opened the front door to find Bill standing in the
front hallway.

“Do remember that spanking fantasy you had-” he asked.
“The one you talked about when we saw that old movie?”

Katie had to think back, but it didn’t take long.

Once, while they were cuddling on the couch after watching a
black and white classic on television, she’d told Bill how much
she liked it when the handsome leading man threatened to take
the spoiled heroine over his knee. She went on to confess that
she’d often daydreamed about a strong man pulling her across
his lap and spanking her like a misbehaving child. When Bill
asked if she wanted him to spank her right then and there,
she declined explaining that only under the right circumstances,
when she really had it coming, could she accept that sort
of treatment.

“Oh, yeah.” Katie said, her knees going week at the thought
of her husband recalling such a brief, intimate moment.

One of the many qualities that endeared Bill to Katie was the
way he remembered everything about her. If she mentioned a
fondness for a certain kind of wine or food, that’s what she’d
soon find on their dinner table. Bill remembered every spot on
her body she liked massaged and every place not to tickle her.
He’d even developed a knack for renting the videos she’d most
likely enjoy. And when it came to sex, he always knew which
buttons to push, especially the ones nobody had ever touched.

“Well, I think it’s time you got that spanking.” Bill said,
folding his arms across his chest. “What do you think?”

Katie’s eyes darted down to his shoes. She then glanced up
to Bill’s face again. He didn’t look very angry. In fact,
even though his expression was quite stern, a subtle smile
seemed to be forming at the corner of his lips and his eyes
greeted her warmly.

“Yes, Sir.” Katie heard herself say as she placed her purse on
the small table next to the front door. She caught a glimpse of
herself in the hall mirror and seeing the blush that had come
over her face sent an electric chill throughout her entire body.

Bill pointed into the next room.

“In there, young lady.” he commanded.

Katie took a deep breath and somehow managed to put her feet
into motion. She stepped hesitantly in front of her husband,
half expecting a sharp swat to her backside as she passed.
Instead, she quietly entered the living area to find that
Bill had placed one of the armless chairs from the dinner table
in the center of the room. She felt a sudden jolt. It was Bill
taking her by the wrist and pulling her to the chair.
Placing Katie to one side, he seated himself and looked up at
his breathless spouse.

“You need to have your little wagon painted bright red!”
Bill stated. “And I’m just the guy to do it for you!”

With that, he hooked his right arm around Katie’s waist and
hauled her unceremoniously across his lap.

Katie was shocked, not just by the swift forcefulness Bill
displayed in taking her over his knee, but by the fact that
he’d used, word for word, the exact dialogue spoken by the
leading man in the old movie they’d watched. Before she could
ponder whether he’d gone out and rented the film in order to
reenact the scene, she felt the first of many stinging swats
to her upturned fanny.

The slaps fell hard and fast onto the seat of Katie’s modest
silk skirt. She gasped at the severity of one particular smack
that caught her off guard just as she’d placed her hands on
the floor in an attempted to make her position less precarious.
This thundering whack was quickly followed by another and
another, each a bit harder than the last. Soon Bill was
administering the kind of walloping his wife had both
cringed at and craved.

Katie hissed and yelped with every smack to her tender,
quivering buns. Her eyes filled with tears. Her round, swelling
buttocks burned as if she were sitting in a bowl of hot water.
Her face burned as well and the tears that trickled down her
blushing cheeks did nothing to wash away the shame.
Katie wasn’t prepared for the feelings she was having.
Being spanked so soundly was painful of course, but it was the
embarrassment of the situation that seemed almost impossible
to withstand. Bill had yet to bare her bottom or use an
implement on her and she was already crying, already squirming
and beginning to kick. The humiliation was overwhelming and
yet it was this very factor she seemed to hunger for more
than anything. It was like a tonic, frightfully bitter to
the taste yet healing in effect.

Bill’s firm hand continued to deliver heated kisses to his
wife’s reddening fanny, driving her deeper into the world
of salty tears, sizzling flesh and an intoxicating sense
of complete disgrace.

Soon after Katie had fallen limp over his lap and her cries
had become pitiable blubbering, Bill decided to bring the
spanking to a close. He stopped swatting and instead applied
a firm yet soothing massage to her raw, red, aching ass until
she was done sobbing.

“Okay, now stand up.” he said, giving Katie a pinch to grow on.

Katie pushed herself from Bill’s lap and reached back to grab
two handfuls of that wonderful burning sting in her throbbing
ass cheeks. Then she unbuttoned her blouse and opened it until
it slid down her arms and fell to the floor. Her bra, shoes
and skirt were next.

Bill stood as he watched his love push her panties down past
her knees.

“What are you doing?” Bill asked. “Nobody goes bare ass in one
of those old movies!”

Katie kicked her undies off toward the couch, took her
husband’s face in her hands and planted a long, smoldering
kiss on his lips.

“We’re not in a movie, sweetheart.” she panted. “I want the
full treatment.”

Having said this, she pushed Bill back into the chair and
threw a few locks of hair over her shoulder before laying
across his lap once again.

“Are you sure?” Bill asked.

“What do you think?” Katie replied, wiggling her bare, pink
bottom as she spoke.

Bill lifted his hand and began spanking his wife just as before
and yet this was a completely different experience for Katie.
Now that she’d been warmed up and the initial shock had
dissipated, she could enjoy it all on an entirely new level.
Her husband was swatting away with every ounce of strength
he’d used earlier and now that she was naked, the smacks stung
that much more, but Katie was loving it. With anxiety removed
from the equation and shame no longer an obstacle to her
pleasure, she not only welcomed the blistering heat of
every swat, but eagerly lifted her bottom for more.
Mrs. Bingham had had acquired a taste for this medicine
and was quite willing to beg for another spoonful.

A few tears still escaped her eyes, but Katie was no longer
crying out but grunting and moaning as she pressed and rubbed
herself against her husband’s leg. Bill gave both of Katie’s
thighs firm squeezes between powerful spanks and soon his hand
was venturing upward to tease her glistening sex with the
tips of his fingers. Katie was delirious with the rush of
differing sensations. She found herself squealing, then
groaning, then giggling as her hubby alternated between
slapping her ass and tickling her pussy. Before long, the swats
were arriving a good fifteen seconds apart, each slightly weaker
than the one before, with a good deal of finger play in between.

Without warning, Bill stopped everything and pulled Katie from
his lap as he stood up.

“I’m not done yet! You've got something else coming to you!"
Taking her ear between his thumb and index finger, he lead
Katie to the corner of the room near the bookcase. "This is
a good place for a bad girl to take a time out."

Katie looked at Bill in disbelief and then bowed her head.

"Yes, Sir." she sighed, heading into the corner.

Then Bill stepped forward, blocking her path.

"You are not bad, however. Not by a long shot.” He lifted
Katie’s chin so that they were looking directly into each
other's eyes. “You’re just a little forgetful sometimes.
That’s no so bad now, is it?”

"No, Sir." Katie answered, barely able to breath.

Their lips met and they kissed with complete abandon.

Eventually, Bill managed to push himself away for a moment.

"Now ditch that ‘Sir’ business and march yourself into that
bedroom, young lady! Like I said- you've got something else
coming to you!"

Katie did as she was told.

“You are talking about fucking the hell out of me, right?”
she asked knowingly as she entered the darkened bedroom.

Before the question had completely left her lips, Katie heard
the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered followed by four
very familiar words: